Oblivious Orange
"Hng... Ah. Ungh."
Linda's muffled moans leaked out every time my cock grazed over her pussy. Coated in her sticky juices that kept gushing out, my monstrous shaft—with its brutal shape and veins—naturally pressed against her labia and clit, teasing her relentlessly. No direct penetration yet, but the mood, the slick arousal drenching my dick, and the pussy hairs clinging to it kept the blood pumping hard, sustaining my erection.
Part of me wanted to "accidentally" thrust right into her hole, but with superhuman restraint, I stuck to just rubbing against her thighs and pussy lips. That was the situation right now.
Even if she's half-asleep, no way I pull off popping her cherry and going all the way without her noticing...
Afterward, the lingering metallic tang of blood, the cleanup, the pain from the tear—it'd wake her up for sure. Acting on pure lust like that was amateur hour. Swallowing my regret, I pulled my cock away from her lower half and stood up.
Looking down, my glistening dick—drenched in her fluids—stood tall and proud.
Does the 'cooking' category include dicks too...?
As I got up, planning to shove something into her mouth for real, a sudden curiosity bubbled up: if I stroked my cock with these hands infused with my culinary touch, would the flavor change? Cooking was subjective, right? Hang it on your ear, it's an earring; nose, it's a nose ring—same shit, different day.
Nah, fuck that. Some countries serve rocks slathered in sauce that you suck clean... At least a dick's a thousand times better than a rock.
Rocks? You just lick off the sauce and toss 'em—total garbage ingredient. But a cock? The more you suck, the more it gives, at least for women. A mysterious delicacy exclusive to them.
With my chef's soul igniting, my hands started kneading my raging hard-on like it was marinating meat. Giggling creepily, I hypnotized myself: With this ingredient called dick, I'll craft the ultimate dish with these hands, just like before. It was some twisted experiment.
Had I ever jerked off this intensely since awakening my powers? The wet, squelching sounds filled the air as I manhandled it. Satisfied that my "hand flavor" had fully infused, I finally stopped and slowly pushed my cock into Linda's mouth as she lay there, smacking her lips endlessly.
Schlop.
The moment her saliva-slick lips met my precum-soaked glans, Linda's brow furrowed slightly. She was unconsciously savoring the aftertaste, and my intrusion pissed her off. Her delicate frown made me imagine her snapping awake and glaring at me—cold sweat beaded on my skin.
"L-Let's taste it. Yummy sausage's hereee..."
Lowering my hips near her head, cock aimed at her mouth—it was a pathetic, sleazy sight. But backing off from a spread table like this? That'd be even more lame for a man. Trembling with excitement and awkwardness from the pose, I steeled myself and shoved my hips forward, slipping between her pursed lips.
Thankfully, she sensed my effort—or reacted to the food word in my gross coaxing—and her lips parted slightly. Her pale pink tongue flicked out reflexively.
Lick.
"Oh... fuck."
Like a real sausage welcome, her tongue met my unmatched glans, poised to ravage her mouth. Frozen, afraid she'd freak, I watched her reaction. Slowly, she licked from the base to the slit in one straight line—my hairs stood on end, mouth clamping shut involuntarily.
I'd always gone hard with intense foreplay, positions, techniques. This passive kitten-lick was a rare treat. But watching that was nothing compared to what came next. After savoring my cock and precum, Linda convulsed just like with the earlier "dish"—legs stiff, body shaking violently.
My invading cock in her spread mouth, her frantic licking and quivering jaw? Bonus round.
"Whew... Guess 'cooking' is all about perception, how you frame it..."
Her reaction—devouring my cock like it was candy, sucking it down in seconds—confirmed my experiment. I nodded smugly.
"Can't feed her directly like this forever, but if I prank her food every day, she'll eventually react how I want. Heh."
This moment etched my cock's scent and cum's taste deep into her subconscious. While confined on the ship, if she tasted my cum unflinchingly every meal, suspicion or trembling eyes would come eventually.
Fucking her mattered, but tormenting her like this? Endorphins exploded harder. I smirked, tensed my waist, and started slowly rocking my hips.
For imprinting my cock, sure—but starting with her nose buried in my pubes, slurping eagerly, inhaling deep... Our first night on the ship deepened just like that.
"Young master."
"What?"
"I'm hungry."
"Salad okay? That's all I can whip up right now..."
"Yeah."
"Sigh..."
Now she bossed me around like I was the maid, her the master. After flooding her mouth till it felt like skull-fucking her brain with endless cumshots, it ended when she burped and gagged, too full to swallow more.
Watching her reaction stealthily after she slept it off like a log, her first move was an involuntary cum burp from the bloated gut. The lingering tangy taste was my skill's masterpiece, but the burped scent? Pure semen. She tilted her head in confusion, eyes baffled.
Fuck, even I'd suspect that shit... Taste and smell don't match at all.
Food has its signature aroma, right? Steak smells like steak, tteokbokki like tteokbokki. Her puzzled glance and head-tilt toward me scared the shit out of me...
But since she's always seen me positively, she chalks it up to food tampering over rapist vibes... Still a long way to ripen.
Honestly, I'd love her suspecting sexual sabotage and causing a scene. But our bond ran deep; her bland reaction drew a sigh. Her oblivious brain was a flower field—no street smarts.
I tried pranking when she was clueless, but turns out she needs wits to spot it.
Whatever, fooling people is always fun anyway... No biggie.